A/N: Hello! Please forgive the spotty updates recently. Please stick with me! I'm back with hopefully more reliable updates. I'm sorry you guys. You shouldn't have to deal with this. However, I hope you all had a great holiday! Cheers to a new year. :)

Also, I had almost finished the following chapter when my computer deleted the entire thing (which I have no idea why, because it was supposed to have autosave on it. Needless to say, I was rather ... upset), so the one below is the "A;LSKDJF;ALSKDFJ;LAKS; GOD COMPUTER SERIOUSLY HONESTLY REALLY" version done at three a.m. after a solid hour, at least, of work completely gone. So ... yeah. ^^''

I'm rating this chapter more PG-13 because there's some not-so-kid-friendly stuff. I mean, it's nothing too intense, but there are, like, burned corpses. Just FYI.

Because I was gone for so long, I shall provide a triple update! Indeed, yes! Hm, I wonder how many different people read this, though? Oh, well. I'm honored that you have followed along this long. ^^

Noatak did not wait for the family to wake up. He slipped back inside the house and took everything that he thought might be useful and what he'd need for a trip-although he wasn't sure for how long. He took a backpack and a water skin he'd found in the third closet he checked, filling the water skin with water from the well outside and dumping random items that he found around the house into the pack. Fruits. Bread. Map that looked five years out of date. Dried meat (he wasn't sure what kind of meat exactly, which made him vaguely apprehensive). Some extra clothes he'd swiped off of Rika's father (well, bigger was better than much-too-small, Noatak figured, which was basically what Rika's brothers were). He had little qualms about stealing from these people, and he told himself that he should really be feeling much more guilty, especially when they had allowed him to stay the night with, considering, very little questions. But somehow, he could not bring himself to feel sorry. He almost, in fact, stole one of the more expensive pieces of jewelry of Rika's mother's when he went into the room for her father's clothes for the sake of selling it later, but he decided against it. For one thing, stealing fruit and bread was nothing compared to a string of jade and pearls, and for another, hefting that around on a path alone was just begging for trouble.

And with that, like a phantom, Noatak disappeared into the night. He took off running, heading along the clear, earth-packed dirt path leading out from the town and heading south. He knew that there was a small town from the map he'd stolen, but while there was a scale on the map, he had no idea how to read it. But as long as the water was at his back and the distance between him and the Water Tribes was growing, he was satisfied. That was good enough for him.

It was strange, travelling with a mask on, because firstly, it was nighttime and no one was around to see him in the mask (much less him without), and secondly because he couldn't feel the wind on his face when he ran. It was a weird sort of detachment that Noatak hadn't realized he would miss until he was missing it. The inside of the mask was quickly becoming heated with his own breath, and that was all he could hear. His sigh was limited by the eye holes, as well. Noatak didn't like the fact that his senses were cut off-because of the obvious reasons, of course, but also because he instictively began depending on bloodbending to fill in the holes for him. It was something he'd done ever since he'd learned and mastered bloodbending as a child. The North Pole got long, dark, cold nights during the winter, and during those nights it was impossible for any oil lamp to penetrate the sheer blackness that had taken over the tundra. It was easier, then, to figure out the space relative to the other beating hearts in the house, or how many wolves were outside right then, or how many of the predators there were. Even now, Noatak could hear the small, fluttering heartbeats of small birds and animals sleeping or bounding through the trees lining either side of him. But he reminded himself that he had promised he would no longer use bloodbending.

He hesitated, however. It was difficult for him to really give up one of his "senses". The other time he would ever use bloodbending was to control another living being, but if it was just to give him another pair of eyes and ears, so to speak...

No, he couldn't allow himself this indulgence. There was a line he had to draw, and Noatak knew that he had to stick with his own vow whether he wanted to or not. He was not allowed to decide when and where bloodbending was allowed based on the convenience of the situation. Otherwise, one thing would lead to another, and then what? He'd be nothing better than one of the criminals Master Katara had spoken about. He'd be nothing better than Yakone.

With a repressed shudder, Noatak began to stifle the automatic, additional sensory ability he'd aquired. Slowly, gradually, he felt the prickling at his fingertips begin to recede and the small, thumping beats that tickled his eardrums begin to fade. He was proud that he could do this, because this meant that he was able to control bloodbening whether it had been a conscious decision to use it or not. He could choose what sort of man he wanted to be. It was liberating to know something like this.

For hour or two, however, Noatak did not bother with philosophies or internal monologues. He simply ran, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other. He switched from running to walking to dragging to jogging and then sprinting again, pushing his stamina as far as he could. His ribs were beginning to bother him again, although he had thought he had made a full recovery, but then again he supposed Kaya could've faked the results a little. Noatak might've been a monster of a healing feat, but there was no way, realistically, his bones would've mended in such a short time. He had just been too anxious to realize it at the time, which struck him as stupid, now.

Eventually, when the sun began to come up and the sky began to purple, Noatak allowed himself a bried rest on the side of the road. He collapsed onto the grass and immediately fell onto his back to stare at the sky. He allowed himself to watch as the purple turned to red, then orange, then yellow, and before his eyes it somehow flowed into an incredible baby blue shade. Noatak munched on one of the apples from his backpack and drank at least half the waterskin as he observed the wolrd do its thing. It wasn't that he'd never watched the sun rise before, it was just that it looked different in the mainland. He did it a lot of times in the North Pole with Tarrlok-

There he went, thinking about his brother again! Noatak flung the now half-eaten core of an apple in a random direction towards the trees, grimacing at the inside of his mask. While he didn't want to forget about Tarrlok forever, he certainly didn't want to be reminded of him everytime he ate an apple, either. There was a point where sentimentality got in the way. Noatak considered this for a moment, wondering if there was a way that he could completely stop being reminded of Tarrlok every two minutes, but he finally decided that, of course, there was no possibility that was going to happen. Memories were memories, and he would have to deal with it when they came. Noatak supposed the problem wasn't that they happened moreso that they brought up unresolved feelings and questions. What could've been.

Impatient to get moving, now, Noatak rose, putting on his backpack and waterskin. He nearly sat right back down as he hissed in pain. His legs were like stones and aching like crazy, sending throbs up and down their length. He gritted his teeth and took a few steps forward when he really did crumple right back down. This was what he got for not getting a steed or a cart or something when he left the town. His planning skills had been declining, lately. Usually it had always been Tarrlok that-

Noatak stood up again, grunting but ignoring the pain this time as he began to walk along the path, again. Eventually, he reached a slope and nearly gave up, thinking that he could probably last one night in the forest when he reminded himself that his supplies weren't enough to sustain him. It was important that he got to the town today so he could replenish his backpack and waterskin and continue on his way.

Think of it as training, Noatak encouraged himself. Reasonably, if he was going to get by without any bending at all, he would have to start training his physical body more. He didn't meant to get into fights left and right, but if he wasn't going to use some of the most powerful fighting styles to his advantage, then it was important that he developed his muscles more than his technique. He stuggled up the slope, waddling along like some penguin, and feeling just as hot as one in his black clothes under the sun in the middle of the Earth Kingdom. He concentrated putting one foot in front of the other as his next goal. He stared at his feet the entire time to make sure he accomplished this goal. And it was because he'd been looking down that he did not immediately realize what was going on aroun him, although his nose picked it up easily.

Noatak paused as the smell hit his face. He frowned as he sniffed. It was sweet and sticky, but also acrid and stung his eyes and made his choke a little, although his mask kept off the worst of it. He could tell what sort of thing this smell beloned to, as he found the word for it as his eyes found it swirling just beyond the crest of the hill. Smoke.

Noatak kept his eyes on the thick black plume being coughed up into the sky. It looked like there had been a huge fire, although apparently it was tapering off now. Still, that didn't make Noatak any less worried, and he wondered if he would have to use waterbending to save everyone.

When he cleared the hill, however, he knew that his worries were baseless-for waterbending, that is. It was clear there had been a town, but the fire had burned everything in it and around down so far into the ground that it was hard to believe that anything had once lived in that space. Noatak stumbled down the slope of the hill and ran into the town, trying decipher what had happened there. The wood frames of the buildings had all but crumbled, a few brave beams sticking out of the ash-covered ground. The earth was charred to a crisp. There was no sound there. No animals were calling and there was no wind. A few rebellious, small fires spluttered and flickered in small piles of not-completely-burned-to-a-crisp wood. He was beginning to doubt that the culprit had just been some freak accident fire, although he hadn't really considered that in the first place. The plume had been too large and the town too spread out to have fallen completely to one rogue flame.

It was a gruesome sight. The entire place looked like some sort of skeleton, all the skin and muscle torn away to reveal the brittle bone underneath. Noatak could see the ghost structures of the town that had once been from the few frames that were still standing lopsided in the dirt. There were bodies strewn about, burned alive, apparently, some mouths still open in terror. They were lying on the streets, in carts, in the doorways of their homes...No, this definitely was not just a common fire.

It was a disgusting smell. The stench of burned wood and bodies rolled through the town and air and made Noatak want to gag. His stomach heaved multiple times and he almost threw up right into his mask. He was able to keep it down, however. He clapped his hand over the nose holes in his mask, and his eyes were watering, but he was able to keep control of himself for a little bit longer.

"Hello?" Noatak called. His voice echoed eerily.

"Hello!" he cried again. There was no answer. He glanced around, anxious to leave the place.

Three minutes, he told himself. Three minutes. If you don't find anybody by then, you can leave.

"Is anyone there?" he shouted for someone-anyone-to answer for the third (and what Noatak anticiapted would be for the last) time. He swallowed hard as the silence following his voice surrounded him.

It was a stressful sound. Silence. It pressed on him from all sides. It made a palpable, physical force against his eardrums and sucked up his shouts for any survivors. True silence, he realized, was rare. There was never any time in his life that he had been in such a silence as this one. There were no animals calling and there was no breeze blowing. It was as if this town had been pulled out of the world for a moment. That the area around it had paused. Everything had stopped so the earth could mourn for the loss of these people.

Three minutes are up, he told himself. Go. He turned, prepared to go back and wondering if he should tell someone about this and wondering what he would even say, when his cloak was seized from behind with such strength and viciousness that the collar cut into his throat. Noatak gagged as he was pulled back, an arm coming around and locking his jugular in a strangle hold.

"Who are you?" the owner of the arm growled in his ear. It was clear this voice belonged to a young man, although he seemed older than Noatak.

"From-town-north of here," Noatak answered with weak gasps. "Not-here-to hurt..."

With a snort, the man let Noatak go. Noatak collapsed onto the eart and coughed and wheezed as he felt the oxygen begin to pump through him, once again.

"You're from the Water Tribe?" the person asked. Noatak started and glanced over himself. He saw that, during his struggle, his cloak must've shown the bright, declarative blue his Water Tribe garb had. Damn, he should've changed when he was at Rika's house. Although, if he thought about it, he wasn't overly fond of the idea of undressing and trying on Rika's father's clothes so casually.

"Are you from the Water Tribe?" the person demanded, seizing Noatak's collar, although this time they were facing each other. The man was perhaps twenty or so at the most and eighteen or nineteen at least, his ice blue eyes sharp and unyielding and a small mustache beginning to grow on his upper lip. Needless to say, little boy Noatak had little chance fighting this man off if he did not use his waterbending-which he was determined to not do.

"Yes! Yes, I am," Noatak said hastily, forgetting that he was supposed to be lying for a moment.

"Can you waterbend?" When Noatak didn't anwer quick enough, the man gave him a rough shake as if to shake the anwer out of him. "Can you waterbend?"

"No!" Noatak practically shouted at the man. At least he remembered he had to lie about that. The man paused at stared at Noatak's mask as if trying to see if he could find the truth written on its surface. Then, all the of energy was sucked from him. His shoulders slumped, his back curled, his head fell forward, and he replaced Noatak onto the ground with a bit more dignity than he had previously (Noatak landed on his feet this time). he watched the ground betweenhis feet for a moment with sheer disbelief before he turned around and began to walk away from Noatak without another word.

"Wait!" Noatak shouted after him, struggling to his feet. He bounded after the man, who had not waited, replied, or in any way acknowledged that Noatak had addressed him.

"Is there still a fire going on?" Noatak asked. "Is that why you asked why I was a waterbender?" He trailed along the man's side, peppering him with small questions. "What are you doing here? You're a survivor, right? Are you alone? Are there more of you?" When he was not answering, Noatak put his hand on his upper arm as a way to get his attention. Had he been injured?

Immediately, the man seized Noatak's wrist and twisted his arm behind his back, pulling and making Noatak's old shoulder wound burn. He shouted out a little and gritted his teeth.

"Do not touch me," the man hissed before letting Noatak go. Noatak gasped and groaned, rolling his shoulder and glaring at the man's receding back as he continued on his way to the edge of the city. Grimacing, Noatak followed after. If there was still some sort of fire or some other trouble, then the guy would be thankful to have Noatak along. While he promised he wouldn't, Noatak decided that he would use waterbending here if he had to. There was a difference between holding back and being unforgiveably selfish. If there was a building on fire and he had a chance to save lives, Noatak refused to be an unforgiveably selfish boy.

Fortunately, the man did not lead them to another house but rather a part of town that had not quite been completely eaten up by the flames. While parts were charred and blackened and a few of them closer to the center were as bony as the ones on the other side of town, in comparison, these buildings were in impeccable condition. And the man went right for the one at the very, very end of the street that was pratically intact. Noatak was surprised how little the man seemed to care that Noatak was following him.

The man ducked inside the home and Noatak followed him, curiosity driving him, now. And if the man hadn't stopped him, then what was the problem with going in? As soon as he stepped inside, however, he realized why the man wanted a waterbender.

The woman on the couch was in terrible shape, over half of her body burned and an angry red. Boils and blisters had developed over some of the more severe areas, and almost all of her hair had been burned off or charred. Her eyes were closed and it was clear that she was on the brink of death. The only indication that she was still alive was the unmistakeable little lift and fall of her chest at an alarmingly quick pace.

"You needed a healer," Noatak said helplessly. Here he stood, a waterbender, and even now he couldn't do anything to help this woman. There was nothing he could do. He was stuck with the disgusting, destructive branch of waterbending that brought nothing but pain. And when there was a dying human being lying there right in front of him, he couldn't save them. Because he hadn't been blessed with the power to heal. Only maim.

"Her name is Seung," the man croaked, one hand cautiously squeezing the less burned one of hers as he knelt by her side.

"Is she...?"

"My fiance," he replied to the half-formed question. He choked, spluttered, and brought her fingers to his forehead as he bent his face forward and cried. Well, he didn't make any sounds, but Noatak could tell that he was crying. His entire body was shaking like a leaf in the wind.

"How?"

"Firebenders. Came into the town. I was...I was out hunting. Didn't catch anything. I was getting ready for her to yell at me because we'd have nothing to eat," he said thickly into his lap.

Firebenders. Was it always benders that destroyed everyone else's happiness?

"Can..." Noatak asked tentatively. "Can you move her? Can she be moved?" He half considered suggesting they went back to the town that he had just come from, since he knew that there were benders there (and there would probably be at least one healer), but what he said was, "Maybe we can bring her to the next town and see if they have a healer."

"Can't," he moaned, rocking back and forth. "Can't do it. Nothing to carry her with. Everything's gone."

Noatak helplessly watched as the man now openly sobbed, his cries ringing through the room. Noatak had been his last hope, and now he had none. Unless a miracle happened right now, the woman wasn't going to make it.

Feeling as if he didn't belong-that he most definitely did not belong-Noatak stepped outside, sitting on the stairs leading to the entrance of the home as the man's peals of anguish echoed through the town. It seemed to shake to its very core. Noatak went from between covering his ears to crying a little himself. It was so unfair. It was so wrong. The firebenders came in and out of this town so quickly and so easily and burned it to ash as if it was nothing. Destoryed everything. Took away everything. Was there no hope for benders? Were they all just made to assert themselves? Was there no such thing as a kind, benevolent bender? Even Master Katara, even the Avatar, weren't innocent. They proclaimed peoples' death sentences. Because of them, Noatak was born...

Noatak covered his ears again in the middle of the night, shivering on his side on the wood of the stairs as the man continued to lament of his lost love. The sounds had started with a new layer of loss. She had clearly just died. Noatak thought he was going to die, too.

A/N: three guesses who the mystery man is. idk if it's canon if he's older than Amon or not, but I thought that it worked so yeah.